


No Contest

by wildwordwomyn



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Angst, F/M, Friendship/Love, Infidelity, Loss, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-03-18
Updated: 2009-03-18
Packaged: 2017-10-09 15:22:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/88840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildwordwomyn/pseuds/wildwordwomyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Letting go of the love of your life, even when you're no longer the love of his life, is hard to do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Contest

**Author's Note:**

> Angst told from Sandy McCoy's POV.

The thing is, breaking up with someone you'd actually decided to spend the rest of your life with isn't as hard as seeing that someone with another lover.

I know this firsthand. Me and Jared were together a really good four years. And in those four years I'd never once doubted that he loved me as much as I loved him. The problem was that we hardly ever saw each other. I was capable of long-distance loving. He, apparently, was not. No, that's not true. Jared has a heart of gold. It's not his fault he up and fell for someone who wasn't me. Not my fault either. It just was. But that didn't make me feel any better. And now there're rumors all over the internet that he's dating a co-star from his television series. Not even the one I figured. Some woman with the same nickname as his best friend. And if that isn't a Freudian slip I don’t know what is...

I'm at home in my apartment in LA when I hear a specific ring come from my cell phone. I automatically know who it is. He'd set it for himself and I haven't had the heart to change it.

"Hey, J.T.," I answer, striving for normal.

"Hey, Sand. How's my girl?"

Right then I can tell this conversation won't be normal at all. "Your girl?" 'Haven't been your girl for a while', I think. Deep down, though, if I was sure I had a chance I'd take the title back without question. What does that say about me?

"Sorry. Automatic, you know?...Got a second?"

I should say no, should say goodbye and hang up. I'm still not ready to be just friends, but J.T. needs me. Needs ME. "What's up, honey?" The endearment slips out before I can pull it back. He takes a deep breath and I don't know if it's because of that word or what he is about to tell me.

"It's Jen."

"What about her?" I ask. If she's hurt him I'll hold her by her hair and punch her until she passes out.

"No, no, I'm not...Not her, Sand. Him." And that right there speaks volumes, doesn't it? "I know you think it started before...you know," before he left me, he means, even if he can't bring himself to say it, “but it didn't. It just...I, god, Sand, I never expected this. Ever!"

I sigh quietly. "I know." And I do. I always did. That's the worst part about it.

"I started dreaming about him. A couple months ago." Automatically my head takes me to a very sweaty, grunting, freaky place. A place that, if we weren't recent exes, I would find incredibly hot. "Not those kind of dreams. I mean, like, just taking walks on beaches holding hands. We don't ever talk in them, Sand. We walk, we hold hands, we smile, and there's this way, this feeling that just...After a really long shoot when we're both so tired we can barely stand, let alone walk, he'll smile at me just like in the dreams. Sand? Sometimes it's like those times are the dreams and real life all at once and I...I get confused," he finishes softly.

His voice reminds of when he broke up with me after proposing. Things had been going well. We'd recently returned from Paris and I was to become Mrs. Sandra McCoy Padalecki. I could already see my wedding dress. Maybe that was the problem. That I could see it all in my head. He couldn't. It was obvious once I began bringing up plans, once I began talking about it. He'd tell me to wait, give it time to sink in first. We had a while, he said.

"I get confused," J.T. repeats. "Sand, I don't know any more what's real and what's a dream. When he's close I have to remind myself that it's not okay for me to reach out and take his hand. I touch him sometimes. His neck, his arm. I stand next to him and just breathe him in. And then he looks at me funny like he doesn't know what to make of me. But when he's tired? When he's so exhausted he doesn't know his right from his left he knows, you know?"

I find myself crying silently. Now that I've finally heard what I'd been waiting four years to hear. He'd always thought I was jealous of Jensen Ackles. And I was. I admit I still am. But that wasn't all. Besides just wishing I could be with Jared as much as Jensen was I also always felt this vibe coming from Jensen that J.T. sensed, that he returned. I told him about it once and he laughed. He thought it was hilarious. Then.

"J.T.-."

"I'm sorry, Sand. Really. God, I'm so fucking sorry, but no one else understands me like you do."

Like he does. I don't say it out loud but it's what I'm thinking. No one understands the man who used to be mine like the man he wants to be his.

"So you're finally admitting to yourself that you're in love with him. Now what?"

"It's more than that. Bigger."

"Please don't tell me that what you feel for Jensen transcends love and time."

"Don't make fun of me, okay? It does."

"Bullshit, J.T.!" I shout, pissed off. "Bullshit! What I felt for you was bigger! My love for you was more!" I cry hard, my nose dripping as my voice gets hoarse. "Why do you have to rub it in my face, huh? Why can't it be some girl who happened to be an extra or some waitress at your favorite diner? Someone I could compete with? Why'd it have to be him, J.T.? I can't compete with Jensen fucking Ackles!"

Neither of us says anything for a few minutes. What can be said? I love him. He loves someone else. My heart breaks. Case closed. Only I can't help wanting him to be happy, wanting to see him smile and be at peace. Why can't I let go?!

"J.T.," I murmur, "please, please, please don't do this. Don't tell your ex-fiancé who is still crazy about you that you've fallen madly in love with someone else, okay? Just...hang up and go tell him and live happily ever after and call me in a year when things are better. Okay? Please?"

"...I shouldn't have called. I'm sorry." He's subdued now. Or maybe resigned is a better word for it.

I only need a second before it blurts out. "Tell him, J.T. It'll work out. Trust me." He snorts, disbelieving. "Tell him," I urge, "and send me a wedding invitation."

When I hit the end button on my cell phone I hear a dial tone but I know the conversation isn't over. It keeps running through my head. What he said. What I said. More than anything I really do want to go to the wedding. I'm sure J.T. will look amazing. And Jensen, of course, will be beautiful. As always. Even if he did steal my husband. Right now, though, I need to go out to the corner store and buy a gallon of vodka to drown my sorrows in.


End file.
